The Power Of Perspective
by Rhylan Writer
Summary: The Justice League has lost one of its most valuable members. The problem is: to get HIM back, they'll need HIS help. So clearly the only option was to 'borrow' him from an Alternate Dimension. But what happens when they don't get exactly what they were looking for, and this Bruce, claiming that they are all comic book characters, knows so much about them? VeryAU TeenBruce
1. Not Quite Right

**A/N: Hello people! Ahem. I'm assuming you've all read the summary and know what this story is going to be all about. Or at least you think you do *mysterious chuckle*. Anyway, my point is: This is my first fanfic and I'd really appreciate constructive criticism on whether it's good, bad, whatever in-between. Your criticism will help me get better and if you've got a question feel free to ask me; I'll gladly answer you with another question! I love being cryptic so there just MIGHT be an answer in there. Or I might just be bullshitting you *shrugs*. Well, unless it's a really straightforward question. This chapter's pretty short but I can promise that the later ones will be longer; just setting up the stage.**

 **I'm getting carried away with my Author's Note so, without further ado, I present to you –! *secretary whispers into ear***

 **Oh shit. *Breaks into cold sweat* I almost forgot the disclaimer! The lawsuit would have utterly destroyed me…**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own DC or anything like that. If I did, I most certainly would NOT be here doing this. Hmm… I should probably mention that I do not own Skyrim either. Bethesda does, so get off my case.**

 **Without further interruptions…**

* * *

CH.1: Not Quite…Right.

He woke up suddenly, not quite knowing what roused him. Looking frantically around him, he breathed a sigh of relief as he realized that he was still on his bed at his New York apartment. It was raining outside and his windows were open as he tended to keep them. He enjoyed the feel of the cool night air when he slept. Mumbling in annoyance, he closed his windows shut and got back on his bed. He checked the time. Ugh. 4:33AM. Rolling his eyes tiredly, he laid his head back on his pillow with a yawn. He usually got up for school at 7:00. Sure, he mostly got to school late but the teachers had come to learn to expect nothing more from him. Even when he got up early, he'd invest some time on leveling up his High Elf mage on The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. Only when the clock's little arm had gotten past eight did he bother to leave his apartment. No one was there to reprimand him or anything; his parents were… gone, so to speak, therefore his grandparents just sent him enough to be comfortable and paid for his education.

And he wouldn't have it any other way. He'd always been a person who preferred his own company. The chatter and noise of a group never pleased him at all. His grandparents never told him about his parents and he'd lived alone most of his life. The only thing he could gather was that they weren't the best of people. He wished he'd actually known them though.

Groaning, he diverted his mind from his current line of thought. It wasn't going to do him any good to reminisce about what happened thirteen years ago. Besides he had school tomorrow – well, today – and he didn't want to get there late.

…Later than usual.

Sighing, he closed his eyes so he could drift off to sleep. He pondered if he should try counting sheep then decided to just go with it. He only got to ten, however, as he figured that the cool breeze caressing his face would get him to sleep easily enough. He idly wondered when he reopened the windows though. Oh, of course…

…He didn't.

"Don't freak out."

"AAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!" The high school teenager yelled with all the manliness of a ballerina. Gripping tightly to the edge of his blanket, he covered himself up to his head and whimpered out, "Please don't hurt me! All the money's in the little box under my bed, just take it all!" Still hidden (at least he thought he was) under his covers, the teen heard a sigh and movement towards him. With a sudden yank, his blankets went flying off him faster than he could pull them back. Now face to face with his assailant, his eyes threatened to pop out of his head with the intensity that he stared. _This is a joke_ , he thought, not quite believing it himself. Then, gathering himself, he managed to mutter weakly, "Are you here to force me into that cosplay club I rejected a few days back?"

His 'assailant' scowled at the teen before him, part of his face hidden by a black mask. "I'm not part of a 'cosplay club' as you put it. I just need to verify something and I'll be gone. What is your name?"

The high school teen was still speechless as he gazed at the person before him; the suit, the gloves, the mask, the overall design. He was pretty sure he knew who this was _supposed_ to be, the get-up was pretty spot on. Then, hearing the low growl from assailant-guy made him realize he'd spaced out. Startled, he took a deep breath to calm himself and, staring at the blue bird insignia on the chest of the mystery man, he said:

"I'm Bruce. Bruce Wayne."

* * *

In retrospect, Bruce supposed he shouldn't have told a complete stranger his name, but hey, in his defense, the stranger would probably have beaten it out of him anyway. With a curt nod, the costumed man replied, "I thought so. You do look like him. By the way, I'm–"

"–Nightwing," Bruce completed, shock etched on his face. "But you can't be. Y-you're just a c-c-comic character! H-h-how…?" He became silent as his brain went blank trying to explain what was happening. He wanted to believe it was just a cosplayer playing games, but judging from the low hum and occasional sparks, the Eskrima sticks on Nightwing's belt looked very real. However, it seemed like a possible idea for someone with enough time and money to come up with the stuff. Bruce glared suspiciously at the person he was now certain was someone looking to make fun out of him.

Nightwing blinked twice. Looking puzzled, he asked, "How did you kn–"

"Look, _pal_ , I'm going to give you ten seconds to get the hell out of my apartment before I call the cops." Nightwing raised an eyebrow as Bruce continued his rant, "Seriously, what is _wrong_ with you people?! Are you so desperate for members that you would break into others' houses?! Get. Out. Now." He finished, calming down and hissing the last three words in order to make himself clear.

Nightwing didn't seem impressed, however, and just muttered to himself, "Well, he has his fire, I guess. But this is so wrong. Kid doesn't even look eighteen yet." Bruce straightened up and tried to indignantly state that he _would_ be eighteen in a couple months, but Nightwing chose that moment to press his fingers against his ear and say, "Yes, I've found him. You'd better come quick, though. You're not gonna like this." He grimly went back to staring at Bruce and then suddenly said, "You know what? You should probably start packing. I'm guessing they'll need to run some tests anyway."

 _What?_ Bruce wasn't sure he'd heard right. Start packing? Run some tests? On him?! Deciding that he'd had enough crazy for one night, Bruce reached for his phone and quickly dialed 911. He glanced at the weird guy in his room expecting him to stop the call, but Nightwing seemed unconcerned, opting to stand patiently in the middle of the room and gazing around.

"911, what's your emergency?" The operator asked, Bruce immediately whispered urgently, "Please, I need help. There's a crazy looking guy in my apartment and he's saying stuff about running tests on me. I think he wants to kidnap me!" Bruce was asked to state his location and he gladly obliged, "I live in –"

Suddenly, there was a bright flash of bluish light in his dark apartment, causing him to cover his eyes in pain. When the light dimmed, Bruce dared to open his eyes. "Hello? Hello, can you hear me?" The operator was left hanging as Bruce gaped like a fish, his phone still held to his ear. He was pretty certain he knew who the people standing in front of him were. He'd seen them all before.

"So what do you think J'onn? I'm not the only one that sees the problem here right?" Nightwing inquired of one of his two companions. The Martian Manhunter frowned slightly and said slowly, "No. You are not."

The last person spoke up in an attempt to lighten the mood, "Well, at least we now know how he looked like as a kid, right?" The two others raised quizzical eyebrows and the speedster deflated. "Not funny, Wally. This is _definitely_ going to screw up the plan," chastised Nightwing, rubbing his head as he felt a migraine coming. All three then began muttering to each other with contemplative looks on their faces. Bruce was spooked out of his mind at this point; Nightwing, The Martian Manhunter, The Flash. All in his room. And they all looked like the real deal, especially the Martian Manhunter; it wasn't easy to pull off _that_ kind of look except in had no idea what deal they had with him, but he wasn't enough of an optimist to think it was good. Glancing at his bedroom door, he guessed he could make it out the door before they got to him since his bed was closer to it than they were. Maybe _then_ he could lock it behind him and trap them inside, giving him more than enough time to bail!

…

No. Of course not. What was he even thinking? A locked wooden door? Against _them_? It didn't look like the door stood much of a chance if he was to be honest. Assuming The Flash even let him get anywhere near it.

Hmm. He had just subconsciously admitted that he had bought into the whole thing. Seriously? He unexpectedly laughed, surprising the others in the room. He could just imagine it now:

 **DC Comics Presents:**

 **All Your World Are Belong To Us {*}**

 _It would make a great title for a comic_ , Bruce snickered, accepting that he had finally cracked. Seeing Flash zipping to him anxiously with speed that blew his homework right off the table only made Bruce laugh harder. Wally gave J'onn a troubled look and the latter proposed with a slight shrug, "It would seem he has trouble coming to terms with this."

"Do we really have time for this, though?" Nightwing inquired impatiently. The others seemed to agree with him and regarded Bruce with wonder, bewilderment and a badly hidden tinge of disappointment. Breaking the silence, Nightwing stepped up and asked, "What are your parents' names?"

Bruce, having calmed down by now, was a bit taken aback at the strange question but answered, "I don't know." At their irritated expressions, he added, "They left me when I was four years old. I was raised by my grandparents for a while until I came here to live on my own. They never spoke about my parents and I never had any records of them." He then muttered lowly, "Nor did I bother to look."

The heroes seemed to take his word for it (well, one was telepathic so it'd be pretty hard to lie) and murmured amongst themselves.

Finally, The Flash turned and calmly spoke to the teen, "Alright Bruce, here's the thing. We're going to need you to come with us. There are questions that need answering and some… _problems_ … that need solving as well. You are vital for both of these things. Do you understand?"

He didn't like the sound of it. It seemed a lot like they needed him for some superhero crap that would likely get him killed. He wasn't quite willing to risk that. But…at the same time, he _did_ want to help. He couldn't really explain why, but he felt like helping these people would serve a greater purpose than sleeping in and playing his console before heading to school late. He felt… _obligated_. It was hard to shake off the strange feeling. Making his choice, he steeled his resolve. Hey, these guys were superheroes after all, meaning he'd probably be safe with them anyway. Probably. Hopefully.

Either way, he looked at them with determination and said, "I'm in."

Sporting a pleased smile, J'onn walked up to him and Wally, with Dick coming up beside him. "But first I've got one question," Bruce announced.

"Which is…?" Nightwing raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"Will I be back in time to watch my show this evening?"

Wally chuckled a bit as J'onn put his hand on Bruce's shoulder, then his face turned grave, "No. You won't."

And then they were gone in a flash of blue light.

* * *

 **A/N: And there's the chapter to begin all chapters. Hope you enjoyed it, and if you didn't, I'd appreciate you telling me where I screwed up. I'm not talking about the plot though, 'cause I've already got that planned out. If you don't like it then don't read it, no skin off your back, right? I'm already working on the next chapter and it** _ **should**_ **be ready in two days, give or take. Remember it's considerably longer than this chapter.**

 **{*} If you don't get it, Google search 'All your base are belong to us'. Too lazy to explain, don't want you to think it's a typo.**

 **Later!**

 _ **Rhylan Writer, *insert badass signature***_


	2. Identity Crisis

**A/N: Hello people. First of all, I'd like to apologize for the long delay in posting this chapter when I said it'd take me about two days. I think this ended up being, what, two weeks? I do have reasons, of course. I had some…** _ **unforeseen**_ **… personal problems. Another reason is that I lost my Writer's Manuscript (the notebook where I write down my story when I'm not with my laptop, which is most of the time) so I had to start from scratch and the words just never felt** _ **right**_ **. I didn't type out near as much as I wanted to in this chapter, but I had to cut what I'd done into two because if I was to complete it, I'd have to write a lot more for the chapter to end appropriately. That would mean taking** _ **more**_ **time, so… yeah, you get** _ **this**_ **half assed chapter. I'm going to try to keep a regular update of about a week or less 'cause it turns out there are more people than I thought would be interested in this story. Thanks for the faves and follows guys!**

DISCLAIMER: I do not own DC. If I did, I would _not_ be dealing with depression right now. Except for the depression that comes with being too rich, of course.

* * *

Chapter Two: Identity Crisis

They appeared in a rundown location that he didn't recognize. Bruce was surprised to discover that he didn't feel woozy as he'd supposed he would. The ride, if you could call it that, was actually pretty smooth; like teleportation through blinking. Although, to be honest, he felt kind of disappointed. He'd expected that they would appear in an amazing other world like in movies, but this? This was just depressing.

"Well… okay? So what are we doing here exactly?" Bruce inquired while taking a look at his surroundings. All he could see was rundown shacks and abandoned buildings. The place gave off a sort of dark vibe, and Bruce had to restrain the urge to hightail it out of there. J'onn seemed to sense this and tried to calm him with a (slightly) reassuring smile, "Do not worry. We won't be here long."

Nightwing broke away from the group and pointed down a path strewn with old newspapers and broken bottles, "If I remember correctly, we came through that way. The bridge should be just up ahead." Bruce perked up at this. As they walked down the path, with Nightwing leading the way, Bruce inquired, "A bridge? What sort of _bridge_ are you talking about?" The speedster among them answered, "What else would we be talking about? A way for us to cross over from _our_ world to _yours_." He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

The teen rolled his eyes and replied, "Yes, I know. I mean what method did you use? How does it… look… like…?" They had come to the end of the path quickly enough, and there, hovering four feet above the ground, was the 'bridge'.

Flash, grinning, said, "It looks like that."

Bruce took a moment to take in what he was seeing. It seemed like a portal of swirling colours of red, purple and orange but what surprised him so much was that inside the portal was… them. It looked like a mirror (it clearly showed the four of them), but the environment within the reflection seemed different. It was much brighter for starters, and the buildings were well-maintained, some even looking newly built.

"Whoa." Was all he could say. Nightwing, deciding that he'd given him enough time to gawk, said, "Come on, we've got to get you through to the others. You'll have to jump, though, so make sure you don't hurt yourself on landing."

Bruce suddenly snapped out of his trance. It took a moment for Nightwing's words to register in his head but, when they did, he swiftly felt _very_ reluctant to go through the portal. "Uhh… you know what? I'm sorry, guys, but I don't think I can do this anymore so… good luck with whatever it is you're dealing with." He said, quickly backtracking down the path they'd come from. J'onn then curiously asked his retreating form, "Do you know how to get out of here?"

This stopped Bruce in his tracks. If he was honest to himself, he didn't even know where _here_ was. Then he remembered something. "Didn't you say that you'd leave me alone if I told you my name?" He pointed his finger accusingly at Nightwing.

Nightwing shrugged and said without a second thought, "I lied. Duh."

With frustration etched on his face, Bruce tried to think of something to say to the dark hero, "You – that's not – aren't you supposed to be a – Damn you!"

Seemingly tired of the bickering, Wally stepped in, "Look Bruce. I know that we're asking a lot out of you. But we really _do_ need your help. You're the only one that can help us save Batman."

Stunned, the teenager replied, "Batman?! _That_ 's who this is all about?"

Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he said, "I see. So you guys came here thinking I was him from an alternate dimension, huh? Well you've made a mistake, 'cause we are _nothing_ alike! The name? Freakin' coincidence! There are a shitload of other Bruce Waynes out there; I'm not the one you're looking for."

"You are," said Nightwing calmly despite Bruce's agitation. "I've seen the pictures. You look just like him when he was your age." Bruce was clearly stunned at this. The situation was so strange. How could they be telling him that he was the doppelganger of a _comic_ _book_ _hero_? It felt so surreal, and there were a lot of things that didn't quite make sense. He weakly tried to come up with another argument, listing the inconsistencies, "But… he's filthy rich and I'm… not. He's way older than me. He's badass and I'm the definition of 'not badass at all'. He's actually got a social life. His parents were murdered and mine… mine…"

Bruce was at a loss for words now. What _had_ happened to his parents? Were they even still alive?

J'onn saw his inner turmoil and voiced, "We may not have all the answers at the moment, but I am certain that somewhere along the way, we will." The three heroes waited a moment, observing Bruce as he made his choice. They did not wish to force it on him because the last thing they needed was for Bruce to bail and fall into the wrong hands once they'd taken him through to their world.

Finally, after what felt like ages, Bruce made his ultimate decision. If going through with this helped him understand more about his life – his parents – then he was willing to take the leap. Plus, he had to silently admit that he'd always dreamed of rolling with superheroes. He doubted he'd get this opportunity twice.

With a Cheshire grin, he stated, "What's the hold up? Let's do this!"

The Flash merely rolled his eyes with a smirk while Nightwing hoped they wouldn't have to deal with his indecision again. "Alright then. I'll go first. Bruce, you'll go through next. Then Wally before J'onn. Got it?"

Nodding his head, the teen said he understood. Without any other words, Nightwing leapt into the portal. It shimmered and gave off a sound like a bad radio (which Bruce found strange) and then went silent once more. In the reflection, only Bruce and the two other heroes remained; no Nightwing, nor could he be seen in the background.

Staring at the swirling mix of colors, Bruce nervously asked if it was possible for J'onn to levitate him into the portal instead. He wasn't the most nimble of people, and was eighty percent certain that he'd land on his face the moment he went through. Unfortunately, the alien shook his head. Gesturing towards the gateway, he said, "There seems to be a strange energy emanating from it. None of our abilities work whenever we are in its vicinity. If I could, I would have teleported us directly to it."

Nodding his head in agreement, The Flash added his two cents, "That's why I didn't just 'race' you guys here when we teleported. Wouldn't have been much of a race though." He added the last part, grinning.

Bruce sighed, his hopes dashed. Steeling himself, he took a couple of steps back.

"Well, here goes nothing."

Then he leapt into the portal.

* * *

He saw the ground coming faster than he could stop himself. Luckily, though, a hand quickly halted his movements. Straightening up, glad that he didn't eat dirt after all, he thanked his rescuer, "Thanks, Dick."

The masked hero merely gave a curt nod and said, "You're still going to have to explain how you know my name."

Waving his hands dismissively, Bruce said, "Yeah, yeah. I will."

As the other members of the group emerged through the portal, Bruce took a moment to look around. He almost couldn't recognize the place, but he knew that it was still the same place they were in a second ago. Well, the _same_ place, but in a whole other reality. As he gazed around appreciatively, The Flash pushed his middle and index fingers to his ear, "Yep, we're back. You could say the mission was…" He glanced briefly at Bruce who was waving excitedly at a group of giggling girls (who seemed not at all surprised at the sight of him and his costumed companions), "…successful…?" After a moment, he rolled his eyes and said, "No, we didn't screw up the mission. Complications? Well, maybe a teeny tiny little complication. It's no big deal, I swear." He hurriedly said the last part, cringing at the yelling he got on the other end. "Whatever, you'll see for yourself. Take us up."

Bruce raised a quizzical eyebrow, which was then joined by the other as they were enveloped in a beam of light pointing upwards as far as the eye could see. In a moment, they were gone.

* * *

Bruce had had enough instantaneous teleportation for one day. This time, unlike when it had been with the alien from Mars, he felt downright queasy and uncomfortable; it was hard for him to hold down the pizza he'd ordered the night before. Fortunately though, he managed to keep it down just as they were assaulted by an irate Hawkgirl.

"Start talking, Wally. What's the compli–" She stopped in her tracks halfway to the dais where the group stood. She stared at Mini-Bruce in shock, then at The Flash and back to Bruce.

Wally broke the silence, shrugging, "Yeah… we may have screwed up the mission after all."

Before she could bring herself to say anything, Bruce excitedly voiced, "Where's Superman?"

Finally gathering her wits, Shayera said uncertainly with a slight frown on her unmasked face, "He's likely on his way here. I notified him the moment you… came through the portal." Bruce nodded his head in understanding; Superman was a busy man after all. He couldn't have expected him to wait here until his arrival. The moment Bruce had taken a look around, he had immediately known that he was on the Watchtower. The looming figure of Earth seen through the reinforced glass was a dead giveaway. He was filled with cold anticipation; he was excited at the prospect of seeing the heroes he'd always admired, but at the same time he was intimidated by the thought of seeing them all.

Shayera had to ask, although dreading the answer, "What in the name of Thanagar happened?"

Nightwing, scratched the back of his head awkwardly, but still kept a stoic mask, "Well, the portal dropped us in an alternate dimension just like we wanted. But it looks like it was a bit _too_ alternate. I mean, look at him," he said, gesturing at the scrawny teen beside him, "it's a wholly different timeline. I have no idea what went wrong for the portal to drop us off so far off the mark."

Scowling, Shayera was interrupted for the second time that day.

"I might have an answer for that."

Everyone in the room stared at the materializing figure that stood amongst them.

"Fate," Flash muttered, glad to have someone who might be able to make sense of all of it. Dr. Fate stood tall with his resplendent cape, his golden mask glowing with power. He had not been present when they had gone through the gateway, but he was more likely than any of them to have answers. "I believe this phenomenon is called a 'Time Warp'. You set a random dimension and a particular location," at their nods of agreement, he continued, "You, however, did not set a specified _time_. You simply assumed that all alternate dimensions ran along the same timeline. There wasn't an exact _mark_ in the first place. It is more than likely that the portal took the initiative on that matter. Also, by picking a random dimension, you assumed that Bruce Wayne would always, most definitely, be Batman." He turned his gaze towards the teen, "As we can all now see, this is not _always_ the case." The members of the Justice League present all looked displeased at the outcome but nodded in acknowledgement.

The silence was however broken when Bruce pointed out, "Yeah, that sounds great and all, but it still doesn't explain why I know so much about you. Heck, you were all just forms of entertainment back where I came from."

At the quizzical look directed at the three members by Hawkgirl and Dr. Fate, Nightwing explained, "The shocking thing is, Bruce knows a _lot_ about us. He says that we were all comic book characters!"

"Comics, cartoons, fanfiction. You know, _entertainment._ " Bruce said with a shrug.

Hawkgirl looked at him skeptically, "Just _how_ _much_ do you know about us?" She wasn't going to believe just _anything_ the kid said.

To prove his point, Bruce easily pointed at each of them in turn, "Shayera H'ol, Kent Nelson, Dick Grayson, Wally West, J'onn J'onnz…"

The great double doors of the hall opened wide.

"…Clark Kent."

* * *

Superman strode into the room with a confident gait. Sparing Bruce a contemplative glance, he sighed and asked, "Is there any chance that we can get the portal running any time soon?" His super hearing had already picked up most of the conversation on his way in.

Hawkgirl answered him, not one bit happy about the situation, "No. The technology used to power it up was Thanagarian, Kryptonian, Martian _and_ Earth tech. To try to regain the resources we need would take too long. Could take a week if we hurry the process–"

Dick interrupted, for some reason growing restless, "You're right. That _would_ take too long. By then, he would have already…"

All the people in the room – sans Bruce – gave each other knowing looks.

The teen gave them a questioning look asked, " _He_ would have already done _what_?"

Nightwing opened his mouth to speak but Superman silenced him with a raised hand.

"We will continue this at another time. Contact the founding members of the league who aren't currently on the Watchtower. Tell them it is urgent." Turning his back and walking away, he finished, "They shall be at the Hall of Justice in three hours."

Nightwing began to protest, "Superman, wait! I know I'm not a founding member but I _have_ to–"

"I understand. We shall make an exception for you. I know how much this situation affects you, Dick," he said with a reassuring look.

The Man of Steel then promptly walked out as Nightwing nodded his thanks.

Rubbing her head peevishly, Shayera voiced, "Well, you heard the man. I might as well show you to where you'll be staying in the meantime," she then added under her breath, "While I go get a drink."

Bruce complied and followed her without a word. He was glad that he'd gotten to meet Superman (well, more like _see_ him. The man hadn't even spoken to him at all.) But it seemed the hero was more business than he thought he'd be. Shaking his head from that train of thought, Bruce chastised himself. What had he expected? This wasn't a movie or game; not anymore. This was serious business. Somewhere out there, Batman was in deep trouble. Or worse. They didn't _have_ time to throw him a welcome party. Not that he'd wanted one or anything. Not really. Not a big one. Then he realized that they had expected to get _Batman_ from another dimension, not some seventeen year old teenager. Batman didn't seem like the partying type (except when he was Bruce Wayne), so that would probably explain the lack of fanfare. At least he hoped that explained it.

On the way to his new abode, Bruce spotted a lot of characters he'd known or heard of in some form or the other. He saw Captain Atom, who gave Hawkgirl a quick salute as they walked by. He saw Fire, who he'd always thought was kinda hot. And way out of his league, he reminded himself humbly and turned his attention elsewhere. Among the others he could recognize were Aztec, The Question, Huntress (hey, wasn't she kicked out at some point?) and Booster Gold while he couldn't quite recognize the handful of others they passed by.

Finally they stood outside his room. The door was made of a material that he couldn't quite recognize and opened through the process of a retinal scan. Hawkgirl let the machine scan her eyes, after which the name 'Hawkgirl' appeared on a small screen along with an ID number. The solid door lifted upwards and they both stepped inside, the lights automatically turning on. Bruce looked around the room with thinly veiled horror. It was terribly Spartan, with only a large bed, an equally large desk and a wardrobe at the right corner. At one side of the room was a door he could only guess was the bathroom. Seeing his look, Shayera rolled her eyes and said, "Hey, to be blunt, you're not exactly who we had in mind when setting the room. Batman wasn't a fan of decorations. He rarely ever used this room anyway." Bruce nodded his head in acceptance. He liked a little clutter here and there; it gave the room a personal touch. He didn't like the room, but he only had to stay for as long as he helped them in whatever way he could and be done with it. In the meantime though, the room needed a Bruce Remodelling Special.

"Wait, what if I'm–"

"See you in three hours… Bruce," she said his name a bit awkwardly (probably still uncomfortable the kid in front of her was sort of the Bruce she knew) and closed the door as she left.

"–hungry?" Sighing he sat down at the edge of his bed and looked around, not that there was much to see. After wondering for what felt like hours (but was only five minutes) what he was going to do to pass the time, he felt the hair at the back of his neck stand.

Feeling the presence of the intruder behind him, he slowly turned his neck, irrationally afraid of making sudden movements. Spotting his silent intruder, he raised an eyebrow and waited. After ten seconds of a staring contest, he asked, "So… how long are you just going to keep staring at me like that, Raven?"

Finally speaking up, she said, "So it is true. You _do_ know about us, even though you had no idea we were real, correct?"

"Wow, news travels fast," he said, scratching the back of his head. Noting how she was dressed, he tried to go for a complement, "Umm, the Goth look suits you."

"Thank you… Why are you feeling so awkward?" Mentally cursing himself, he remembered that Raven was empathic and could tell what emotions he was having at the moment. Looking at her, he was thankful she couldn't exactly read minds like J'onn 'cause if she knew some specific details of that complement…

He immediately stopped that trail of thought as he saw her forehead crease dangerously.

Trying to change the subject, he quickly said, "But hey! W-What are you doing here exactly?"

Studying him closely as though he were an experiment she said simply, "I wanted to meet the weirdo."

Stunned, Bruce muttered, "Huh. Well, uhh… what?"

Sensing his embarrassment/discomfort she amended, "I mean, when you came aboard the Watchtower, I could immediately feel a very queer aura. I can't… explain it." She finished uncertainly. His curiosity peaked, Bruce asked her, "Can't explain it…? But what does it _feel_ like?"

Knowing that the teen would possibly not like the answer, she tried a mild delivery, "Well… it feels like you're here, but at the same time you're not. Your aura can be felt, but it's… empty…?"

Bruce stared at her dumbly.

Sighing she bluntly said, "It _feels_ like you're a shadow. Like… _you're_ not real."

* * *

 **A/N: And that's a wrap. Not where I intended to end the chappie but… meh. The next chapter won't take nearly as long as this one, no worries. I think I'll limit each chapter to 3000-4000 words, makes for sooner updates.**

 **Lanelle: Glad to see you liked it. Since this tidbit of info isn't going to ruin anything, I can tell you know that I intend to use the Jack Napier version of Joker. For some reason, I always see him as the Joker's real identity anywhere. Hope you liked this chapter too .**


	3. Dawn of Injustice

**A/N: Man, it was really hard writing out this chapter. I'm working on a Naruto story that's been totally occupying my mind space! I should be posting the first chapter soon. But anyway! Here's Chapter Three, the chapter where we start to understand a** _ **little**_ **more of what the hell is going on in this weird situation Bruce has found himself in. Thanks for the faves and follows, guy! I didn't expect to get over 400 views for only two chapters! *thumbs up***

DISCLAIMER: I do not own DC. Come on, if I _did,_ I'd hire Batman to be my chauffeur, Superman to be my butler, and Wonder Woman to be my maid just for the eye candy.

 ***off screen conversation* Wait, what…? They don't actually…? Sure about that? *hushed murmurs* Of course I didn't know! You should have told me before I said the damn disclaimer! *mutters* Why did I even hire these people?**

* * *

Chapter Three: Dawn of Injustice

Bruce stared at her, his brain having problems processing what she had just said. When it had finally sunk in, his eyes narrowed in confusion and a fair bit of skepticism. Just before he could say anything though, the door to his room lifted wide open as yet another person invited themselves to his room.

Robin, dressed in a casual black T-shirt and blue jeans (but with his mask still on? Is this guy serious?), paused at the doorway, gazing curiously at the two occupants for some seconds. Then he said, "Umm, hey Raven. I thought you were back at the Titans Tower."

Raven nodded with a slight smile, "Yes, I was. But there was something I hoped Zatanna could help me out with. Missed her at her show so I figured she might have come up here." Robin nodded his head in understanding. Looking around the spartan room, he uncomfortably said, "You know, this was always his room whenever he was on the Watchtower. I guess _this one_ didn't like it enough to use it."

Bruce spoke up, already cracking up inside, "This is whose room?"

Robin looked at him in surprise, totally forgetting about the teen. He answered anyway, "Batman's room…?"

The teenager faked a surprised look, "Oh! Seriously? Dude, this is, like, _the_ Batman's room?"

Uncomfortable, Robin said, "Uhh… yeah. If you don't mind me asking though, who the hell are you and what are you doing in this room?"

Nonchalantly lying back on his bed, Bruce answered, "Well, as you said, this is my room. Can't I be in it?"

Looking at him in confusion, with the realization forming but refusing to surface, Robin said, "No, I don't think you can. I said this was…"

He paused. Staring at the snickering interdimensional teenager and a silently smiling Raven, he muttered, "…They screwed up the mission, didn't they?" Part of him had sorta known that the guy that seemed around his age was Batman, but he hadn't wanted to believe it. He was one of the world's greatest detectives after all, but sometimes he simply didn't see what he didn't want to see. Holding his head in his palms, he inaudibly murmured, "And, in effect, we're screwed."

Bruce tried to cheer him up, "Hey, not completely. Instead of nothing, you at least got me. Right?"

Unimpressed, the two Teen Titans did not deem him worthy of an answer.

"Alright, be like that. Whatever. Can someone at least show me to wherever it is I can get some food?"

Raven eagerly said, "Sure. We could also show you around, if you're interested?"

Grinning, glad to have gotten a guide (or two, if Robin snapped out of his depressed funk anytime soon), Bruce said, "Oh hell yeah! It's either that or sitting here staring at the wall for three hours."

Leaping out of bed and moving to the door, he lightly nudged Robin and said, "Come on, Tim. Let's go!" He had realized by now that he was acting too chipper, but he couldn't help himself. He was giddy on the fact that he could have a tour of the _Watchtower_. He wasn't a nerd or anything back on his world (Absolutely not. Really. No, seriously), but he'd always had a thing for superheroes and secret bases. This was just one more thing off of his bucket list.

"Whoa whoa whoa! Hold on! How do you know my name?!"

Ugh. Now, though, he could feel a headache coming.

* * *

The Watchtower was bigger than he'd originally thought. After he'd told Tim all that he could understand about the whole situation, Raven (who he'd begun to call Rachel with her consent) took him to the Promenade first. It was a totally huge area that was usually used for ceremonies and the like. Some members even got inaugurated there. You could also say it was an assembly ground to contain any number of people on board for times of necessity. Tim had to drag a gawking Bruce out of the place. Next was the armory, which was just adjacent to the hangar. Inside the armory were weapons that left Bruce with no doubt that they weren't all Earth tech, and the hangar housed the biggest (and some, the weirdest) ships he had ever seen. When he asked if he could take one for a quick spin, their answer was simultaneous, "Don't even think about it."

Pouting, he was shown to their next attraction, the Power Core. Well, he was shown to the sealed room. When he pointed out that they were standing on the wrong side of the door, Tim replied, "No one gets into the Power Core without a damn good reason. It's dangerous and could lead to not only release in radiation, but contamination of blah blah blah, blah blah blah blah…" Bruce tuned him out in boredom and looked around. The Power Core was located somewhat in the center of the giant mass that was the Watchtower. He supposed it was probably to make it harder to get to from any side in case of an intrusion. Also, it wouldn't suffer as much damage as it could if located at the bottom or top of the tower. Realizing that he was thinking analytically for once, Bruce mentally patted himself on the back and nodded sagely.

"… so I hope you understand why you shouldn't ever go in there." Robin finished, breaking Bruce out of his musing. He rolled his eyes; he had no intention of doing so, the place sounded boring enough without Tim adding his own two cents. Moving on with the tour, they got to the Hydroponics. The area had all sorts of alien flora which, according to Rachel, had efficient photosynthesis, meaning it wasn't dependent on the sun as much as the plants on Earth were. Interestingly enough, the Hydroponics also served as one of the Watchtower's sources of oxygen.

Arriving at the Monitor Womb, Bruce was blown away by the level of tech he was seeing. He didn't even bother trying to understand how most of the stuff worked; he just calmly let the feeling of being in a Star Wars/Star Trek movie wash over him. This was the place where their communications network was situated. All around the circular room were holographic displays with an occasional person examining it. Looking up at the upper level, Bruce could see the Martian Manhunter seated before a particularly large holographic display. Tim said that J'onn was monitoring for crisis points and that he was best for the job since the system was based on Martian tech.

Afterwards, he was shown to the recreation hall (which wasn't really much), the medical lab, containment cells (which he thought looked badass but wanted nothing to do with them) and then the training area they had taken to calling 'The Kitchen' for reasons Bruce didn't quite get at the time. He was shown to the private sectors where his room and countless others were built, but of course, he wasn't allowed into any of them.

He was finally taken to the mess hall, marking the end of the tour. Smirking, he said, "Mess hall? What are you, soldiers?"

Tim was quick to retort, "Oh, I guess we should just call it the cafeteria then, right?"

Bruce opened his mouth for a comeback, but then closed it, grudgingly conceding a point. Something about calling it that just didn't sit right with him.

"If you boys are done, I think it would be best to see what we can have for dinner now. We have just a little over thirty minutes to do that and get Bruce to the Hall of Justice." Gathering that he had to hurry the hell up or be late, Bruce rushed to see what he could wolf down as quickly as possible. This wasn't like back in his world where he was late to everything. He did _not_ want to screw up on the first day.

First impressions were everything, after all.

* * *

'Maybe I should have worn a suit?' Bruce wondered as he was lead to the Hall of Justice by his two guides. 'Or at least a tucked in shirt with a nice tie?'

To say that he was nervous was an understatement. He was downright sweating bullets. He was well aware that they weren't likely to go "He's useless! Let's throw him into orbit!", but he couldn't help feeling anxious.

What if they asked him questions that he didn't have answers to? He feared he might not be of much use after all, and he would just be kept away in his room until the portal could get up and running again. But then again, another part of him feared that he _would_ be of use after all. What better time to screw up than when you were needed?

"You're going to get your face stuck in that expression if you keep it up too long," Robin said with a slight smirk.

Bruce and the Boy Wonder had taken to jabbing at each other whenever the situation arose. It was fun and entertaining to see who could gain the upper hand in their exchanges, if you could call it that. Bruce did it because he figured Tim was too uptight at times, while the latter simply did it for the ironic humor he found in teasing his mentor (they weren't the same, but he still derived some satisfaction from their banter).

Bruce noticed that his face had been set in a grimace and then mock glared at Tim, "Even if that happens, it won't be as bad as _yours_. You even had to cover your face with a mask! I can't beat that."

Scowling, Tim opened his mouth to retort when he was interrupted by an arm suddenly appearing slung over his shoulder. "Heya Robin, Raven and Mini-Bruce! I was just looking for you now to get your ass over to the Hall of Justice, but I see that you've already found yourself guides. Well then, see you there!" And just as quickly as he'd come, The Flash zoomed off before Robin had a chance to toss his arm off his shoulder.

"…Well, I guess we should get a move on. What's the time by the way, Rachel?"

"…"

"Rachel?"

"…I told you it was a bad idea to stop by the Aquarium on the way."

"…"

"You have about, let me see… one minute and forty-two seconds."

* * *

Maybe he _did_ have super powers. At least he thought he did; he ran so fast that he was sure anyone looking would only see a blur.

Bruce barged into the Hall of Justice, huffing and stumbling a bit as he had thought the great doors were heavier than they actually were. Recovering quickly, he looked up and stopped panting immediately. The room was deathly silent, with all of the occupants' eyes fixed on him. Mustering up courage, Bruce straightened up and waved at the seated group, "Uh, hi. I'm Bruce Wayne. Though you probably already knew that, right?" He finished with a chuckle. No one reciprocated in kind.

Deciding to be silent and not give up the fact that he was an idiot too early in the meeting, he briskly walked to the round circular table in the middle of the room and sat at the edge, directly in front of Superman who sat at the other edge. Bruce idly noted that there were twelve seats, eight occupied – excluding him – and he wondered why they bothered with the extra seats. Then he realized it may have been for cases of 'exceptions' like Nightwing who sat on the seat to his left, leaving one empty space between Dick and Green Lantern. Bruce was not too surprised to note that it was Hal Jordan who sat there. If he were honest, he would have preferred if it had been John Stewart instead, he seemed more likely to take Bruce seriously. He quickly took note of the others seated at the round table. Starting from the left was Nightwing, Green Lantern, The Martian Manhunter, Wonder Woman, Superman, The Flash, Hawkgirl and… and…

Bruce was stunned to realize that he had no idea who was sitting next to Hawkgirl.

He didn't know enough to say that he knew everyone in the DC Universe, not even close. But he was surprised nonetheless to see a stranger seated at the table with the founding members. He racked his brain trying to remember then gave up quickly. It was safe to say that he had _never_ heard of this guy before.

The stranger wore a dark blue hood that completely obscured his face. Bruce knew he was male because of his structure; he seemed lean but broad shouldered. His attire consisted of a white bodysuit underneath dark blue robes that covered enough for only the red letter 'M' emblazoned on his chest in an archaic design.

Bruce was confounded at this discovery when a curious thought popped into his head. He knew enough about the DC Universe to know that there were different versions of people portrayed at different times. An example would be the New 52. There were heroes whose backgrounds had been changed. Shaking his head silently, he figured it was likely that he was at a time before that, judging from the fact that he couldn't see Aquaman, Shazam or Cyborg seated at the table.

However, he had seen enough to notice that there were some anomalies if he went with that theory…

"…or do I need to repeat myself again?"

Snapping out of his pensive mood, he realized with horror that he had zoned out in the middle of the meeting! Superman had obviously asked him a question, but he hadn't heard what had been said.

Stuttering nervously, he said, "Umm, n-no. O-of c-c-course not. But if you did, that would be highly appreciated."

Hal chuckled, "I like this kid already." Superman slightly narrowed his eyes, but then sighed and repeated himself, "I asked you to tell us your age and your date of birth."

Bruce raised a curious eyebrow, not quite seeing the point, "Umm, I'm seventeen? My birthday's on February 19th…"

The League members present gave each other knowing looks, confirming the fact that they wanted. Well, not all of the League's members. Wonder Woman was staring at Bruce so intently that he got edgy. He wasn't that dim-witted. He was well aware of what his doppelganger and the Amazon… were. In his opinion, it wasn't a relationship he'd ever thought would work, which was a strange thing to say considering he was kind of talking about himself. He didn't get the feeling that Batman would ever be able to really give her the attention she deserved, which was compounded by the fact that _she_ _was_ a superhero as well. Unless they thought of quitting anytime soon… Gah! What did he know about relationships anyway? All of his were train wrecks, which was probably the only similarity he and the other Bruce had. That was when it really hit him. As different as they were, he _was_ Batman. And Batman _was_ Bruce Wayne. They were two pieces of the giant puzzle that was the Bruce Waynes of every dimension. It was a staggering thought.

Nodding his head, Superman continued, "Very well, that confirms you _are_ the Bruce Wayne we were looking for, in a way. Before we drill you with any more questions, we believe you have the right to know why we took you from your dimension."

The teen cocked his head to one side and said, "I already have an idea why. Even though I have no idea how to accomplish that, you guys need me to help save Batman, right?"

This time all of the people present wore puzzled looks. Flash spoke up, "Yeah, I remember telling him that. Don't look so surprised, it's still the same context, isn't it?"

Bruce was bewildered now. He wondered why they seemed so surprised at his statement.

Superman cleared his throat and began uncertainly, "Well, yes, I suppose so. But the real reason you're here, in simple words, is to stop Batman. By any means possible."

…

Bruce's brain ground to a halt at that point. What were they asking him to do? Stop Batman? Wasn't this about _saving_ him? Wasn't Batman… in danger?

"So yes, I suppose you could say that you were saving him from himself. Before he does something he'll regret," Superman continued.

"Whoa whoa, wait a minute. Let me understand this. You're saying that Batman… went rogue?" Bruce couldn't quite believe the words coming out of his mouth. Batman was the sort of hero that took down _other_ heroes who went rogue, like in the alternate universe where Superman killed Joker. He wasn't the sort that went bad himself…

…Was he?

Nightwing spoke for the first time, grimly, "Exactly. I don't want to believe it either but… we have proof that he's working with the Injustice League. We're not sure why but… he is." It was obvious that his mentor's defection was tearing him apart.

The Injustice League? No. That didn't seem right. It didn't seem like Batman to _join_ a group of bad guys; he already had enough trouble working with a team, and now he was jumping right into another?

Hawkgirl added her own two cents, "He has outfitted and supplied the Injustice League with Wayne Tech. Not to mention that the Injustice League has expanded; apart from Batman, they now have a lot of other heavy hitters working with them."

Bruce, noticing the sudden scowl that appeared on Superman's face, asked, "Like who?"

Green Lantern was the one to answer this time, "Like Darkseid."

Oh shit. "Not to mention Doomsday. Or Atrocitus. Or Mongul Sr. Brainiac. Eobard Thawne a.k.a The Reverse Flash. And a few others. As you can see, we are royally screwed," Hal finished, not a shadow of a smile on his face.

'Oh God. God no, what am I doing here?" Bruce was struck speechless with fear. He didn't see any of that coming. He didn't remember something like this happening in any comic or show he'd seen. Then, at that moment, he concluded that what he knew… didn't mean jack. Not here. This wasn't a past occurrence in the comics, and he doubted it was a future one. Somehow, he'd managed to find himself in a twisted reality (if you could call it that) where some things were different and some things never happened. He really _was_ useless to them.

But one thing he wanted to cling to was that Batman wasn't who they said he'd become. He knew he was probably in denial, and just didn't want to face the truth. But the Batman he knew wouldn't ever do such a thing. _He_ wouldn't do such a thing; they were fundamentally the same people after all, weren't they? Not unless… he had a good reason…

"Batman wouldn't do any of that without a good reason! Maybe he's just biding his time to take them down from the insi–"

"He killed Commissioner Gordon," Diana spoke for the first time since the meeting started, her voice hollow and her eyes averted. "On national television. Everyone saw it. We've seen the autopsy report… He didn't let him die easy."

Finally, she looked into Bruce's eyes, "So, is there anything else you can say to convince us otherwise…?" He sensed a slight tinge of hope in her tone.

Bruce didn't say anything. He didn't _have_ anything to say. All he could do was sit, overwhelmed. When Diana saw that he had nothing else to say, she looked away once again, disappointment flashing briefly on her face.

Superman stated, "Batman knows all of us inside and out. Our identities, our weaknesses… our family. We do not know if he has shared that information with the other members of the Injustice League, but we have taken precautions to ensure those close to us will not be harmed."

He sighed, "We figure that since that was the case, we'd need to send someone that he'd never expect to face against. Someone who he wouldn't have prepared a contingency plan for. Himself."

The Flash continued from there, "I believe that Bruce can still be saved. That he can find redemption for his crimes. So the problem is that to get _him_ back, we need _his_ help." Flash paused to let Bruce process everything that had been said.

The teen understood, but didn't know what the point of keeping him was.

"You were not what we expected to get from the endeavor however. In fact, once we had taken you to base to ascertain you were indeed Bruce Wayne, we intended to send you back to your world once the portal was reactivated. But Myst convinced us otherwise."

Myst?

The stranger, who had chosen to remain silent until this point, spoke in a slightly disembodied voice that seemed to come from all directions, "Indeed I did. There is no point in taking him back now when he can at least still be of some use to us."

Something about Myst's voice threw Bruce off balance. He couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"As of little use it can be at the moment, there is one thing we have on our side that cannot be underestimated."

The uneasy feeling Bruce felt only grew stronger.

The founders of the Justice League all looked at Myst intently. Superman asked, "And what would that be?"

"Isn't it obvious?" The hooded stranger asked. His tone showed he was smiling underneath his hood.

And Bruce realized what bothered him so much. Though he could not pinpoint where, how or when… he had heard that voice before.

Myst said, "You shouldn't underestimate…"

He gestured towards Bruce.

"…the power of perspective."

* * *

 **A/N: *nods head sagely* Indeed, wise words, Myst. And yes, he is an OC. Kind of. It was necessary, that's all I'm going to say. *evil grin***

 **I've started a little hobby of writing Catastrophic Events on my profile page just for fun and the practice. If you've got any interesting ideas for another episode, let me know in a PM or review, doesn't matter how. If I post your idea, I'll be sure to let people know who thought of it. *good guy pose***

 **Guest: Well, there it is. He finally meets Wonder Woman but feels uncomfortable, maybe inadequate? *mean laugh at Bruce* Just 'cause he's Bruce Wayne doesn't mean he'd feel the same way. If you expected that, sorry. Not! *dark satisfied chuckle* And now you see what's going on with Bats. To be honest, writing that part out made me feel horrible…**

 **Lanelle: Voila! There's the** _ **real**_ **reason they needed him; to fight fire with fire. But, obviously, he's far from what they needed. Or what they thought they needed…**

 **There are, however some similarities between the two as you'll see in later chapters.**

 _Rhylan Writer,_

 _*insert badass signature*_


End file.
